The Pity of it

Chapter I

' Love unreturn'd, Hath gracious uses ; the keen pang departs, The sweetness never.' Herries did not appear at the breakfast table next morning. After a short private interview with his father, he departed for London, leaving the excuse of a telegram to account for his absence. "Wiggles was relieved past expression. Lady Trixie equally mortified. Lord Cal derman was in unusual good-humour ; he was even civil to his wife. By the after noon, the last guest, save Mrs. Cashel and Lady Trixie, had departed. Mr. Frankland had gone by an early train. With her VOL. III. b naturally buoyant temperament, Wiggles had quite recovered the uncomfortable dread and depression that had possessed her on waking that morning. How was she to meet Herries? What would he say? What should she say ? how look ? Should she tell Lady Calderman ?

Then what ought she to do ? Would Lady Calderman be hurt? would she blame her? Oh! what was she to do ? She would pack up her things, and be ready to leave. She could telegraph to her mother. Oh ! it was all so horrid, so uncomfortable. Then she wondered why her mother had taken no notice of what she had told her &bout the abusive tramp, and his ominous words. Perhaps, after all, there was no thing in them, only the evil imaginings of a worsted, revengeful outcast. Of course all sorts of strange stories had got wind re specting her mother's disappearance • of course vile tongues laid even crime at her father's door. It was only surmise, only vengeful spite ; she need have no fear. If only the meeting with Herries were over. He was cruel, he was base; just what she believed him to be when she first knew him, he was in reality.

He had been playing a game. She shuddered as she hid her eyes with her hands. Did he really think she was beginning to like him ? She hated him now, loathed him. Then somehow she took comfort when she half-fearfully thought of his mother. Intuitively she knew she would have pro tection there, only, naturally, a mother must feel a son's rejection. So she sat in her room, Rab, sympathetic, at her feet ; Lingo telling her over and over again what a 'poor old Polly' she was; and Bully, in snatches, expectant of his tardy morning kiss, carolling his German air. Even Tad and Pole regarded her, as she sat dejected, from under their slimy fortress, with the black, globular projections credited to them as eyes. Only Gog and Magog were unsym pathetic. It was chilly, and they slept. The window was open — wide ; the morning b2 was dull and moist.

Suddenly a blackbird darted up from the green sward, and perched on the branch of a tree domi nating Wiggles' quarters. At the same time, she raised her head, and the bird, turning as if knowingly round, threw up its throat, and broke into jubilant song. Long and loud he sang — sang till the cloud had disappeared from Wiggles' brow, and the weight was lifted from her heart. She rose and approached the window, and the sweet songster, his mission over, fled. Then Lingo, who had observed not an apprecia tive, but a willing silence, burst into a peal of derisive laughter, which drew a growl of disgust from Rab, and an angry chatter from the bullfinch. The dark hour for the present was over. Wiggles, too, laughed as she came whist ling to Lingo's cage, and made her happy by scratching her head in token of ' good morning.' For Bully she had her sweetest of kisses and a bunch of black Hamburgs.

Rab, too, was kissed, and told in a confidential whisper that she had been very angry, but it was all over now, and she was not angry any more ; to which Rab replied by a sympathising growl and a warning yelp. Then Waggles, considerably comforted, ven tured down to breakfast. Her relief was great to find Herries gone. There was waiting for her a long letter from her mother, which had in it still not a word about about the tramp. Somehow this omission reassured Wiggles. With the keen perception that often comes with unrequited love, Lady Trixie had sur mised the previous night that a passage of some sort had taken place between Herries and Wiggles. She had passed a stormy night — a night of jealous uncertainty. She noted the look of relief on Wiggles' face when Lady Calderman apologised for her son's absence, and she jumped to the con clusion that, if a love-passage had taken place between the pair, it had been unfa vourable to Herries' wishes, and she was relieved and enraged in one — relieved that the man she loved was yet out of her reach, enraged that the prize — to her the most costly on earth — should be worthless in the sight of one so insignificant, as, from her point of view, was Miss Elmore.

The diminished party met again at lunch eon. Wiggles had spent the intervening time in writing to her mother ; she had no concealments from her mother — openly and fearlessly she bared her heart to her. There was only one subject on which she was silent, and that was Ralph Brooks. Since that day when inadvertently she had con fessed her secret, and seen the shock it had given her mother's unsuspecting heart, she had felt as if it were almost forbidden ground. There was a great barrier between her and the man who held her heart in his keeping, yet somehow — she could not have told why — she could not think of it as im passable. The future to youth is omnipo tent — the impossible a spectre to be laid by Time. There would be a solution to the difficulty some day ; for the present she was content to love and to be loved, to trust without the shadow of a doubt, and to know that she was so trusted also.

Ah, ' Foi-est tout' was a fitting motto for Maggie Elmore. For * there is a strange sympathy which whispers convictions that no evidence can authorise and no arguments can dispel,' and everything is practicable which we believe. The plan for the afternoon was to be afternoon-tea at Dredger Hall, and an in spection of its far-famed stables. Lady Cal derman disliked driving with more than one companion in a carriage, so a second — a low phaeton, with a spirited pair of chestnuts — ■ was in readiness to divide the party. ' I do not care for driving,' Lady Calder man said to Wiggles • ' perhaps you will take the reins, and Lady Trixie. Mrs. Cashel will come with me.' Trixie pouted. ' If there is one thing beyond another I pride myself on,' she said, ' it is my chario teering, and I like these cattle.' Lady Calderman laughed. ' Will you give up the reins, Maggie, one way?' she said. 'I know your skill is unimpeachable.' Wiggles yielded without a demur.

She really did not much care ; she was in a dreamy humour, and quite content to sit still and see the hedge and trees flit past her, and feel the cool air play upon her face. The ' cattle,' as Trixie called the thoroughbreds, were splendid goers, and she had no doubt the young lady was the proficient she ■claimed to be. So it was settled • Lady Calderman, in deference to the chestnuts' fiery temperament, taking a five minutes' start. Then Trixie, who had them well in hand, let them go — and go they did. ' My lady,' said the groom from behind, ' don't warm 'em to the road too sudden ; they'remain powerful.' ' Teach your grandmother to suck eggs,' muttered Trixie, between her teeth. As yet she had full control of the mettlesome animals — she could afford to jeer. ' Pardon me, Miss Elmore,' she said, * I am apt to forget the proprieties at times.

This is your first visit to Dredger Hall, isn't it?' Wiggles said it was. * I never saw a fellow so neatly toppled over as Tom Dredger. Are you used to bring your birds down in this fashion ?' Wiggles understood. She was too quick of wit not to understand ; but she said she did not. ' Oh, bosh, you know he's going in for you. He has twelve thousand a year and a decent pedigree, better than fifty thousand and shoddy, I say.' ' Mr. Dredger has not taken me into his financial confidence, though he seems to have taken you,' replied Wiggles, drily. * I am afraid I have no stable proclivities.' ' You're not bad across country. I saw that, but maybe you're flying at higher game?' 'I am not good at riddles,' was the slightly haughty answer. Trixie laughed. ' That's odd, considering that you are a living riddle yourself.

Herries told me about your masquerading in the country, about the cottage by a wood, how you worsted the tramp, and how beautifully you opened soda-water.' ' Did Mr. Heron tell you that, Lady Trixie ?' * Yes. If it was a secret, I am sorry for you ; nothing relating to women is sacred to Herries Heron.' t 'I thought you rather liked him,' said Wiggles, quietly. ' Did you ?' she answered, flicking the near chestnut on the neck. Her hands trembled, aud her eyes shot fire. The horses became unmanageable ; they felt the uncertain hand, and they put out their strength. 'They are running away,' said Wiggles, quite calmly. ' Not a bit of them, they're glorious cattle ; so you thought I rather liked Herries Heron ? I'm afraid you haven't cut your eye-teeth yet ;' she laughed, and again flicked the curved, straining neek, this time of the far chestnut.

The phaeton was lifted off the ground with the bound the animals gave. Their impetuous fire seemed to inflame the auda cious, passion-struck, jealousy-mad girl ; their headlong dash and speed to lash her turbu lent spirit into wild recklessness ; she burst into a defiant laugh. Scarcely seeing her, they flew past Lady Calderman. ' Take the reins, Tom,' shouted the coach man to the groom, but the words, though the wind was following fresh, were left far behind. Trixie looked round at her companion.- ' You didn't think,' she cried, ' when you entered the lists with me, that you were iu for a race like this ;' and she again stretched the whip in action to strike. The groom sprang to his feet. The road, which had hitherto been straight and level, now showed in the near distance a curve, beyond which a bye-road paid into the highway.

This bye-road was steep, leading up an abrupt hill. It was well known to the groom. With an ejaculation by no means respectful, he bent forward and tried to snatch the reins from the reckless girl's hands. In the momentary struggle, in which he was forced back on his seat, the horses swerved to the side, just shaving the deep ditch by the hedge-row. They dashed round the curve, the vehicle bounding and rocking like a boat in a gale. The bye-road was reached. Again the groom clutched at the reins, and again was worsted. ' Turn 'em up the hill, for 's sake !' he shouted. Before the words had left his lips, Wig gles, who had watched her opportunity,' suddenly bent forward, and quick as light ning, snatching the whip from Trixie's hand, threw it into the road. The next moment the reins were in her hands, and Trixie, as if powerless, had fallen back in her seat.

In an instant she pulled herself together, ready for a struggle, and turned with speech less rage on her rival. Coolly, as if unconscious of her presence, Wiggles sat firmly upright, the reins gathered tightly in her hands, and twisted round her wrists, her feet planted against the front board of the phaeton. There was no uncertainty in her hold. Already the frightened animals responded to the mastertouch. The hill was steep, the speed was breaking, still they foamed and struggled, and still the fragile vehicle oscil lated and swayed. Her face was pale with will, not with fear, her eyes wide open and unflinching. She knew what she was about, and the horses knew that she did. The hand Trixie had stretched out to recover the reins fell by her side ; she, too, was mas tered, and she, too, knew it.

Foiled and baited she turned to the groom. 'Take the reins,' she cried. 'We're at the top of the hill ■ do you want us to be smashed? — damn you !' 'No fears, my lady,' replied the man, touching his hat, and grinning in evident enjoyment of the situation • ' she's up to the mark, and the 'osses knows it, they're dead cute, never tried this game afore, guess they don't like to be played with, knows when they can take liberties.' The summit of the hill was gained ; the wild, struggling gallop, the fierce trot which had followed it, had given place to a ner vous motion, half bound, half prance ; then, just as the declivity began, Wiggles tight ened the reins with a determined force, and the groom, in obedience to a gesture of her head, sprang down, and stood at the head of the now subdued runaways, who were trembling all over. 'Take my seat,' said Trixie, jumping out, ' I won't be responsible for the vicious brutes.

As you turned them up this break neck road, you'll have to take them out. If you hadn't got scared, they'd have cooled down on the level.' Wiggles quietly placed herself in the vacated seat as if unconscious of offence, and ignoring Trixie's arrogant manner. ' I am hardly as fearless as you are,' she said, gravely — she felt the danger they had escaped — ' but perhaps I understand horses better, — ever since a child I have been amongst them.' 'Ah, so it would seem,' was the insolent answer, ' I have not graduated under a trainer, or been coached in a stable.' ' Lady Trixie,' said Wiggles, with quiet dignity*, as the former re-entered the phaeton, and the horses resumed their journey, well in hand, ' I have no wish to quarrel with you ; you do not like me, and you are at perfect liberty to detest me, if you will ; but you make a very great mistake in sup posing I am in your way — no two paths are more opposite than yours and mine.

No hopes, no wishes, could be more at variance. Be generous, and believe me; for, Lady Trixie, what would be life to you would be death to me.' Trixie, mortified, enraged, and jealous as she was, felt for the moment the witching influence of Wiggles' simple, earnest manner and soft, musical voice. She could not help it ; as the sense of her words passed into her, with full understanding, she believed them, and for the moment was softened. But she was too proud to acknowledge her error. She laughed, not pleasantly, folded her arms, and sank back in her seat, saying, ' You have the whip hand of me, and can say what you like, but I agree with Mrs. Cashel that it is only blunderers who quarrel. We will agree to differ, for we have neither,' — she emphasised the last word — ' we have neither of us anything to lose.

Take a friendly, if not a friend's advice, though, and bide a wee before you say " no " to Dredger Hall. What is it the old song says — you're great at the barbarous Doric Herries says — " She was daft to refuse the Laird o' Cockpen." Will you sing it ? I see the lodge in the distance, and who knows, a note in the air may carry the matter.' Wiggles nettled at her rattling imperti nence, yet showed no sign of irritation; with perfect composure she looked round, smiled with sly humour, and sang a verse of the song merrily. As she finished, she said, 'Now I'll sing you another,' and her head well back, her eyes scintillating with light and mischief, she sang — ' Will ye no come back agen V As the pathetic melody, sweetly and clearlv, floated in the somewhat sad Novem ber air, Trixie bit her lip ; defiantly she essayed to join in the refrain, but her voice failed her. ' Better lo'ed ye canna be ; Will ye no come back agen ? sang Wiggles, with a significant ring, stop ping suddenly at the massive gates of Dredger Hall.

As they passed through them, the horses putting on steam, know ing stables were nigh, Trixie said, yawning, ' I wish I understood Scotch. You might teach me ; I like the air.' ' Yes,' replied Wiggles ; ' it is telling.' VOL. III. Lady Calderman had already arrived. There stood an anxious group in the Hall porch as the phaeton drove up. The con dition of the horses told too plainly that there had been sharp work. Mrs. Cashel's keen eyes noted that Wiggles occupied the driving-seat. ' What, Trixie,' she cried, ' did you come to grief? The horses were running away, then ?' Wiggles was still pale, as Mr. Dredger, flustered with delight and jubilant with hope, helped her to alight. ' They were rather fresh,' she said, an swering" for Trixie, who showed signs of sulking, ' so we took a round. I think we've both had enough of charioteering for to-day.' ' I am not an over-good whip,' said Lady Calderman, ' but they were never too much for me.

Why, Maggie, your gloves are in shreds !' Wiggles drew her hands within her sleeves ; her wrists were red and swollen. Later in the day, Mr. Dredger had the story, not without embellishments, from the delighted Tom. 1 Blowed, sir,' he said, ' it was the neatest bit of tooling I ever saw — seemed as she'd witched the 'orses ; but it was a shave, and no mistake. T'other one is a rare devil — lots of pluck, though ; shouldn't wonder if she'd had a nip of a gad-fly.' Tom nodded informingly. ' Don't like playing second fiddle, mebbe. All the gents, so they says at the castle, 'as lost their heads along o' Miss Elmore, and her ladyship's nowhere in the runnin' ; that's the gadfly, I take it.' Poor Squire Dredger ! it hardly required the exploit, so much to his mind, to heighten his admiration for the spirited and altogether unique and charming Wiggles — that was at its maximum already ; but it elevated his hopes, it gave him a distinct basis on which to build that dazzling castle in the air that never yet has opened its gates to welcome a founder.

He would take her to his stables ; there c he would be at his best— a best which now he knew she could appreciate. But Wiggles was shy ; she took care that he should have no opportunity of speaking to her except in the presence of a third person. Rare chance favoured him. He was desperate, and he seized it. It was in this wise. The glories of the place, and they were not few, had been passed in review ; the perfect stables and their matchless occupants had roused the enthusiasm of the party, all of whom where skilled horsewomen ; the prize-stock in sheep and cattle had been visited, wondered at, and admired for the very points on which their owner did not pride himself; tea had been partaken of; the old pictures and some fine statues discussed; the well stocked library visited. When the carriages were announced, the squire's heart sank ; he had been primed for his venture, and opportunity had failed.

He had no opinion of letter-writing nor patience, and in the meantime the prize would slip through his fingers. He was desperate. A discussion ensued as to the order of return. Lady Trixie expressed a wish to exchange con veyances with Mrs. Cashel ; but that lady seemed a little nervous about the chestnuts. ' There is really no fear, Mrs. Cashel,' said Wiggles. ' I am not foolhardy ; you will be safe with me. They shan't go out of a trot, I promise you.' Mrs. Cashel was persuaded, but not with out some qualms, and took her seat. As has been said, Wiggles' gloves were in shreds, and Trixie had not offered to yield the driving gauntlets she had taken possession of on starting. Mr. Dredger noticed the state of Wiggles' hands, the reins having left some red lines across them. ' There are one or two pairs of driving gloves,' he said, ' in the hall, in a drawer.

They were left by my sister last week. Come and choose,' and, glad of the offer, Wiggles followed the squire. It was already dusk ; she had difficulty in selecting a pair from the unmatched num bers thrust into a drawer. As she drew on a pair at last, poor Dredger put his fate to the issue. Time was precious ; the chance was fortuitous ; nothing venture, nothing have. She thanked him with the sweetest of smiles. She was off her guard. 'Miss Elmore,' he said, ' one moment. I am a plain man, rough of speech, but true of heart. I love you past expression. Is there any hope for me ? All you have seen to-day, I lay at your feet. I would it were more.' The situation was imminent. They would wonder if she delayed. Already some minutes had gone. But Wiggles possessed promptitude of action as well as decision of character.

Temporising, in this instance, she knew would be cruelty, and she would save pain. She spoke kindly, but so firmly, each word fell like a sinking weight on the squire's lately buoyant heart ; he recognised at once that there was ' no appeal.' ' Mr. Dredger, you have spoiled a happy day ; not all the wide world can buy love. Not all another's love can create love. I have none to give you. Do you not think a man should have some warrant for such a request as you have made me ? A woman's heart is not to be had for the asking.' The poor squire was not deficient in self-respect ; he recognised that he had been precipitate ; he was in his own house ; he felt that perhaps he had taken an unfair advantage. He stood aside to let her pass out, and said, with a not very steady voice, ' A man honestly in love is, perhaps, apt to blunder.

You will forgive me, Miss Elmore, when you come to love yourself.' Her eyes were very pitiful. He could not have pleaded pardon more forcibly. She held out both her hands, and said, ' I only want you to feel that I mean "no." I thank you for the honour you have done me. A true man's love is an honour.' He took her hands, bent his agitated face over them for a second, then followed her quick steps to the phaeton, with as sprightly an air as he could command. Lady Calderman had gone. Mrs. Cashel was impatient. ' How long you two were " pairing," ' she cried. ' And they were misfits, after all,' said Dredger, smiling valiantly, as the chestnuts, eager for the road, started off well in hand. Poor man, he had been hard hit. His horses delighted him not, nor his bullocks either; his sheep were a weariness to his eye, they had failed him in his hour of need, they had not added to his own personal attractions, for, personally, Squire Dredger was a modest man. He packed up that night and took his way to the prairies.

Chapter II

' There are no tricks in plain and simple faith.' ' Of one not easily jealous, but being wrought Perplex'd in the extreme.' Lady Claire Treville wrote in despair; she had set her heart on her mother, with Wiggles, joining the large shooting and hunting-party assembled at Treville Mead. It had been so arranged, but, on receiving from her daughter a list of the invited guests, Lady Calderman had written to take back her promise, with a rather inefficient reason as an excuse — a wish to be quiet for a season, and a surfeit of sport and sporting topics. And she was not to be moved. She did not tell Lady Claire the true obstacle — John Frankland. She was naturally cautious, and made it a rule never to trust another person's secret to a married woman. Lady Claire only knew the outlines of the Elmore story, it seemed complicated, it was out of date, she did not trouble herself to fill them in by research ; she had for gotten that Mr. Frankland, the Right Hon ourable the Home Secretary, bore a promi nent part in that mysterious story, she remembered only that Wiggles was fresh and amusing and very ready to be amused ; it was a great bore and she hated her plans disturbed, and was not used to disappoint ment.

Lady Trixie at present was sure to be heavy in hand, she was eprise with Her ries who, she had heard from Mrs. Cashel, was cooling off, and Mrs. Cashel herself was so clever, it was sometimes a "bore listening to her ; she had so little repose, and she was not good-natured, did not like putting herself out of the way ; but men liked her, and she helped matters along in a country house. Wiggles would have been capital company ; she was so amusingly original, and she was sure she would have taken no end of trouble off her hands, helped her to amuse the people. Not that she herself had any intention of putting herself one inch out of the way ; but Lord Treville was exi geant, punctilious, old-fashioned, and ex pected her to be that absurd thing a hostess, just as if society had not its ramifications of grooves, and that of country visits was stereotyped — people looked after them selves, that was about it.

However, Wiggles would have fallen in splendidly, and she was sure the old man would have been charmed with her; from all she had heard, she must be not unlike his own daughter. It was no use though being worried, she would speak her mind to Hugh and forget all about it. She did so. ' Yes,' replied Hugh, ' it is a great disap pointment ; people are rather curious about her, and she would have kept Mrs. Cashel in order, perhaps, as you say she is witty. I tell you, Claire, Mrs. Cashel goes too far. If that make-shift of a husband of hers wasn't in existence still, I'd swear she had designs on my father.' 'Nonsense, Hugh, Lord Treville has done all he considers his duty to do to domestic life ; he has been a husband once, and a father twice. He looks on himself as his toric now ; I don't think he'd even nibble at the bait of a dowager duchess.' ' My father,' replied Mr. Treville, stiffly, 'has more to bestow than to receive in social advancement.

The superiority that made him what he is keeps him what he always was, a peer above his peers.' ' I never talk seriously to you, Hugh,' said Lady Claire, pouting, ' but you fancy yourself on a platform, and begin " orating," as Mrs. Cashel says. I don't like being prac tised on, speechifying always sends me to sleep.' Lady Trixie arrived first, she was in recovered good humour ; her rival was not in the field. Lady Claire, conventional herself, rather liked unconventionality in others, and in that respect Trixie was to her mind. Herries said she was fast ; but Herries was prudish about women within the pale, and in all outside and material matters she was very good form. Fastness was a fashion, not a crime ; she had seen very quiet comme-il-faut women do things a so-called fast girl would have shrunk from.

There was that pretty, soft eyed, demure Miss Travers whom Hugh had advised her to cultivate as a pattern of feminine modesty and gentleness ; she was always sitting in shy corners with gentle men, was always writing letters, and she had more jewellery than even Trixie, whose possessions of that nature were supposed to be unrivalled. Perhaps Trixie was just a little loud, but she kept the ball going, and she was a splendid-looking creature. Treville Mead was rather dull ; the Trevilles were solid people, and, when the house was to be full, it was well to introduce a lighter element. Wiggles drove Mrs. Cashel to the station in her little basket-phaeton, with Friar Tuck for steed. This was two days after Lady Trixie's departure. Mrs. Cashel did not interest her ; she did not like her ; she did not think her clever, only sharp, and, she suspected, unscrupulous.

She had a quick apprehension of character, and a keen perception of false metal. Lord Calderman was in London, and Herries had written to his mother that he would not return until after his visit to Treville Mead, where his father would join him. So the three ladies walked, and drove, and read, and worked, and discussed their friends, and wrote letters, and were not afflicted with ennui. Mrs. Cashel watched Wiggles closely, and in a measure avoided her. She was conscious of a strange sensation — a feeling of treachery. She was attracted by Wiggles, and repelled at the same time. She did not wish to do her harm, and yet, in the quiet of her own room, she plotted and planned how best to further Elme Campbell's designs, how best to come between the unsuspecting girl and the mau she loved. Yet she could not bring herself to make any attempt to win her confidence.